Be
by bessorla
Summary: Stand-alone ficlet featuring H/Hr. Harry gives Hermione a back massage. The fluffiest piece of nonsense I've ever written. No wonder it's H/Hr.


**DISCLAIMER:** Harry Potter in no way, shape, or form belongs to me. 

**A/N: **For the longest time I fought against the idea of H/Hr, and look where it's gotten me… Many thanks to Winddance for the beta (glad you caught all my moaning).

Dedicated to the members of the Hogwarts_Common_Room and HarryPotterRocksAtHogwarts (the original) and especially Mandy. Now I've seen the light, eh? 

**Be**

By Bessorla

Harry was staring absent-mindedly into the fire when Hermione came staggering through the entrance of the Gryffindor Common Room, laden down with books and looking half-asleep. 

She stumbled over to where Harry was seated on a sofa and sat – no, plopped down next to him, dropping her bag and books next to her in the process. Harry yelped, as one of the heavy books, _Wizards and Their Wands_, nearly missed his crotch, hitting his leg instead with a decidedly loud thump. 

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Harry," Hermione said wearily, pushing all her books and bag to the floor without the usual care she normally gave her beloved tomes. Harry watched her actions with astonishment, and then understanding dawned when she flopped back onto the sofa, leaning her bushy-haired head onto the cushions. 

"Alright, Hermione?" Harry asked tentatively. She lifted her head and gave him a tired smile. 

"Yeah, alright. I've just had so much work lately, it's exhausting me, not to mention the havoc it's wreaked on my back, neck, and shoulders. 

Harry glanced about the Common Room and saw that they were the only ones left in its plush confines. He'd had no idea he'd been up so late, just gazing into the fire and thinking. He turned back to Hermione and smiled, lifting his hands in a gesture for her to move closer to him. "Come on then," he said, "I'll give you a massage." 

Hermione smiled gratefully at him, making his stomach twist. She scooted towards him and turned her lithe body away from his, moving her chestnut locks over one shoulder so he would have better access to her back. 

He tentatively raised his hands and placed them gently on either side of her neck. He started to knead her muscles by squeezing and digging his fingers into her skin. Harry had never realized how soft it was before, but he also noticed the tension interlaced with her muscles. Hermione sighed at his ministrations. 

"Oi, Hermione, there's knots all over the place. What have you been doing to my best friend?" Harry asked her, in the most indignant tone he could muster. She laughed softly. 

"Contrary to popular belief, I actually work for my grades." 

Harry shifted his hands farther apart, across her shoulders and began to work his hands into the new area. Hermione sighed again contentedly. 

"Geez, Hermione, is it really worth a bad back?" 

"Of course it is, Harry! A little pain is a small price to pay for my education." 

Harry shook his head, but said nothing, a small smile gracing his features. He was in awe of her thirst to learn, and admired the lengths she went to obtain knowledge. He'd never tell her that, of course. Harry knew that if he let an inkling of his admiration for her show, she'd berate him to do better, not to mention the awkwardness such a comment would cause. 

Harry moved his hands downwards, working his way down her back with small circular motions. Hermione exhaled loudly. 

"Harry, you have amazing hands," she said, leaning forward so that he could have better access to her lower back. Harry gulped, blushed, and felt immense gratitude that she was turned away from him, so that she couldn't see his flaming cheeks. 

"Thanks," he said awkwardly as he moved up the frame of her back, kneading his hands through her shirt. Her back felt very warm to him. 

She stiffened slightly, as if she had realized she had said too much, but eased herself out of the sudden tenseness and let him continue without comment. 

Harry had finished his massage, but was reluctant to remove his hands. Instead, he rubbed his hands over her neck, hoping she would think he was still giving her a massage. 

Hermione emitted a small noise of satisfaction, and Harry felt a wave of pleasure crash over him at the noise. His cheeks were burning again, but not from embarrassment. He ran his fingers down her spine and felt her shudder at his touch. 

Harry didn't know what he was doing, all he knew was that he didn't want to stop. And it didn't seem that Hermione wanted him to, either. She inhaled breathily when he dragged his hands up the sides of her back, up to her shoulders, where he rubbed her arms down to the tips of her fingers. Hermione had leaned into his touch when he had first run his hands down her upper arms and was now leaning fully against him. He brought her hands in front of her and wrapped them around her waist, with his hands still grasping the soft backs of hers until he was hugging her to him, with her arms trapped under his own. 

Hermione leaned her head back onto his shoulder and closed her eyes. Harry relished the feeling of her weight pressed against him, and her head resting gently on his shoulder. He turned his head towards hers and bent his neck down so he could inhale the scent of her hair. It smelled clean and fresh and had a lingering scent of raspberries. He pulled back and was startled to see her soft brown eyes staring into his own. 

"Harry?" she asked softly, not saying anything else, yet Harry knew what she was asking, because he was wondering the same thing. What were they doing? Should they be doing this? 

But all Harry could sense was his utter contentment he felt with Hermione wrapped in his embrace. He leaned down and she didn't protest when he brushed his lips against hers softly. 

A multitude of emotions leapt within him. There was slight confusion over the fact that this was indeed his best friend who he was sharing an intimate moment with; but that was overpowered by the inexplicable joy he felt as she moved her lips against his, creating a flurry of sensations within him. 

He pulled away finally, and the two best friends, now possibly something more, stared at each other. Harry still had his arms wrapped around Hermione, and he was anxiously searching her face for any sign of discomfort at his crossing a line that he could never go back to. He felt immense relief when her lips curved upward in an unmistakable soft smile. He smiled back at her, and they broke their gaze with each other to stare at the dying fire. 

No words passed between them, but they both felt a happiness that couldn't be described, watching the fire in each other's arms and simply being.


End file.
